"Miss Rose, it's morning," Clara said softly, her voice breaking through the silence.
Rose blinked her eyes open. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The white ceiling, the velvet curtains, the heavy
chandelier above her it wasn't home. The sheets were too soft, the air too cold.
Clara stood by the bed, holding a neatly folded uniform. "Your school things are ready, dear. I ironed them myself."
Rose sat up slowly. "Thank you." Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.
The maid smiled faintly. "You don't have to thank me. I've got a daughter your age." She hesitated. "She's cheerful like you used to be, I bet."
Rose's chest tightened. "I don't remember the last time I was cheerful."
Clara's expression softened. "Give it time, sweetheart. Time helps."
Rose looked away, blinking fast. "They said that at the hospital too."
The silence that followed was heavy. Clara smoothed the bed cover and said gently, "Breakfast will be ready soon. Don't keep Mrs. Beatrice waiting. She doesn't like lateness."
"I know" Rose whisper.
It been months since she came into a house that she was never welcome to , but she had no choice than to stay.
The rain had stopped days ago, but the air inside the Carter mansion still felt damp and cold, like the walls had swallowed the storm and refused to let it go.
Rose stood in front of the mirror, her school uniform neatly pressed, the navy skirt brushing against her knees. The maid, Clara, had braided her hair and tied it with a pale blue ribbon the same color her mother used to choose for her first days of school.
The dining room was already alive when she came downstairs. Silver clattered against plates, laughter bounced off the marble walls sharp, careless laughter that wasn't hers.
Daniel was leaning back in his chair, tossing a grape into his mouth. Samantha scrolled through her phone, hair shining under the morning light.
Beatrice didn't even glance up when Rose appeared. "You're late," she said, slicing her toast with precision.
"I...I woke up early," Rose stammered. "I just didn't know where..."
"No excuses." Beatrice's tone was clipped, cold. "Sit down. Quickly."
Rose obeyed, sliding into the chair at the far end. The table was long enough that her voice would never reach anyone if she spoke.
Samantha looked up at her, smiling thinly. "Big day, huh?"
Rose nodded. "Yes."
"You're nervous, right?"
"A little."
Daniel chuckled. "You should be. The school's full of people who can smell weakness."
"Daniel!" Beatrice snapped. "Mind your mouth."
He grinned. "Just telling her the truth, Mom."
Beatrice sighed and reached for her coffee. "Eat something, Rose."
"I'm not hungry," Rose said quietly.
"Suit yourself. But don't faint in class we can't afford that kind of drama."
The jab stung more than it should have. Rose lowered her eyes, pretending to butter a slice of bread she wouldn't eat.
Albert walked in a few moments later, adjusting his cufflinks, already half on a phone call. "Yes, I'll be at the office by nine," he said into the receiver before turning to the table. "Morning."
Beatrice's voice softened instantly. "Good morning, dear."
Albert nodded at Rose. "Ready for your first day?"
She swallowed. "Yes, Uncle."
"Good. Henry will take you all. I'll see you this evening."
He was gone before she could even say goodbye.
Samantha smirked. "He's busy, you know. Don't expect him to tuck you in at night."
Rose clenched her hands under the table. "I wasn't expecting anything."
Beatrice stood, her tone brisk. "Henry's waiting by the car. Go on, you'll be late."
"No," Beatrice said, gathering her shawl. "I have better things to do than play chaperone. Go."
Rose stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Beatrice didn't look at her. "Don't embarrass us," she said simply.
Rose froze for a second, then nodded. "I won't."
Outside, the morning air was cool and clean, carrying the smell of wet grass. Henry stood by the black Mercedes, holding the door open.
"Good morning, Miss Rose," he said kindly. "You look lovely."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Daniel brushed past her. "She's fine, Henry, stop pretending she's a princess."
"Daniel," the driver said patiently, "manners don't cost anything."
Samantha slid into the car, rolling her eyes. "Can we go now? I don't want to be late because of her."
Rose climbed in last, sitting near the window. She pressed her fingers to the glass as the mansion disappeared behind them. The gates shut with a heavy clang that made her stomach twist.
Inside the car, silence stretched thin.
Samantha was the first to speak. "You're quiet."
Rose looked out the window. "I don't have much to say."
"Figures," Daniel muttered. "You never talk."
Henry caught Rose's eyes in the rearview mirror and gave her a small, comforting smile. "First days are always hard, Miss Rose. But you'll do fine."
"I hope so," she murmured.
The city began to wake around them honking cars, school buses, people rushing down wet sidewalks. It reminded Rose of how mornings used to sound when her mother was alive: laughter, the smell of toast, her father's teasing voice.
She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to stop herself from crying.
By the time they reached Crestwood Academy, her chest felt hollow. The gates loomed tall and golden, the building behind them wide and elegant everything about it screamed wealth.
Mr. Harris opened the door. "Good luck, Miss Rose."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Daniel and Samantha walked ahead, surrounded instantly by laughing friends. Their laughter echoed through the courtyard, too loud, too fake.
Rose forced her feet to move. She noticed some kids pointing already, whispering. Their eyes flicked from Samantha to her, then away with quiet laughter.
The bell rang. Everyone scattered toward their classes.
Samantha and Daniel disappeared down a different corridor. Rose followed the signs until she found the right classroom 1B.
Her hand trembled as she knocked.
"Come in," a woman's voice said.
Rose opened the door. A dozen heads turned. The teacher, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, smiled gently.
"Ah, you must be our new student. Class, this is Rose Carter."
Whispers rippled through the room instantly.
"Carter?" someone whispered.
"I thought she was their cousin."
"Maybe she's that girl from the accident…"
"Didn't her parents..."
Rose froze, gripping her books tighter.
The teacher clapped lightly. "Quiet, everyone. Rose, there's a seat by the window. Go ahead."
She nodded and walked to the empty desk. Someone stuck their leg out. Her shoe caught.
She stumbled forward, barely catching herself. Laughter broke out around the room.
"Sorry," a girl with pink hair said, smirking. "Didn't see you there."
The teacher frowned. "That's enough, Miss Claire."
But the damage was done.
Rose sat down, her face burning The girl beside her Emma turned, eyes wide. Rose gasped softly. "Emma? You go here?"
Emma hesitated. "Yeah… transferred last term."
Rose smiled faintly. "I'm so glad. I thought…"
Emma glanced around nervously. "Rose, I think you should… maybe not talk to me here."
Rose's stomach dropped. "Why not?"
Emma bit her lip. "People are saying things. That you're not really part of the family. That your uncle took you in because your dad… stole from him."
Rose's eyes widened. "That's not true!"
"I know," Emma whispered quickly. "But everyone listens to Samantha. She said you're pretending to be something you're not."
Rose's throat closed. "Emma, please.."
"I can't," Emma said softly. "I'm sorry." She turned away, pretending to focus on her notes.
Rose sat still, every word stabbing deeper than the last. She wasn't able to listen to what the teacher is teaching she was devastated the only person she thinks she feel familiar with, did not acknowledge her.
At lunch, she walked alone to the cafeteria. Every table was full laughter, chatter, the clink of silverware.
When she finally sat down at an empty table, whispers began again.
"Is that her?"
"Yeah, the fake cousin."
"I heard she begged to live with them."
"My mom said her parents were criminals."
Her vision blurred. The words melted into noise.
Daniel walked past her table with a group of boys, pretending not to know her. Samantha trailed behind, grinning.
"Careful, boys," Samantha said loudly. "She might start crying again."
Laughter followed.
Rose stood abruptly, her chair scraping the floor. "Why are you doing this?"
Samantha turned, eyes glinting. "Because you don't belong here. And you never will."
"Stop it!" Rose's voice broke. "You're lying about me!"
"Oh, poor little Rose," Samantha mocked. "Always playing the victim."
Daniel chuckled. "You should've stayed where you came from."
Tears filled Rose's eyes. "You're monsters."
She ran out before anyone could see her cry.
She went to say at the back of the school where no one will see her.
Her chest hurt like something inside was breaking.
She pressed a hand over her heart. "Mom… Dad… I can't do this."
The bell rang somewhere far away, but she didn't move.
Hours later Mr. Harris found her sitting on the stone steps, staring at nothing.
"Miss Rose?" he asked softly.
She wiped her face quickly. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," he said.
"I just… don't belong here," she whispered.
He hesitated, then smiled sadly. "Belonging takes time. Don't let their cruelty define you."
Rose nodded faintly, but her eyes stayed on the ground.
She had to give to give her self hope, though she don't know what will happen
But all she knows is that her family lineage lies with her.
That night, back in the house in her room, rain whispered against the window again. Her uniform hung damp over the chair.
She sat at her desk, staring at the folded paper she'd found days ago the one that simply said: Be careful.
She touched the words with trembling fingers.
Outside, lightning flashed just for a second, lighting the hallway beyond her door.
And in that flash, she thought she saw a shadow standing there, watching.
When she blinked, it was gone.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Who are you… and what do you want from me?"
And then there was a strike of Thunder.